Shimmer: Redux
by SandrinePenn
Summary: Let your light shimmer, as your spirit is released. Yeah, right...
1. Prologue

My dearest readers-

It was initially my intention to delete _Shimmer _and never think about it again, but my rather persistent muse had made that idea about as ridiculous as Stacy/Foreman. So, for your reading pleasure, I present to you _Shimmer: Redux_, free of error and new of chapter.

-SandrinePenn


	2. Attack

The click of Cameron's heels alerted House to her arrival. Looking up from his desk, upon which was spread a myriad of monotonous case files and charts, House's gaze fell on Cameron, leaning languidly against his doorframe, still dressed in her lab coat.

"I just wanted to say 'goodnight' before I go," she said, propping the door open with her foot. House smiled shortly and returned the gesture, looking back down at his desk. Cameron patted the doorframe once before turning on her heel and exiting the office. Out of the corner of his eye, House watched her swaying body until she rounded the corner and was out of sight. Sighing lightly, he continued with his work, hardly noticing the change in weather outside (it was raining) or the time (it was 8:34 PM).

"The night," he mused, "knows not of my trials."

HCHCHCHCHC

Mulling over the list of things she had to complete that evening before bed, Cameron's feet carried her home on a memorized path. Water dripped continuously from her bright blue umbrella, puddling on the damp sidewalk beneath her feet. Her car had been in the shop for a week, and would be for a week more, so Cameron was exploring the different modes of transportation to get herself to and from her house. So far, having ridden the bus and subway, Cameron had decided that she much preferred walking, which was precisely what she was doing. Turning the corner to her building, Cameron was startled by a pop, followed by a searing pain in her left thigh. Screaming out in agony, Cameron fell to the hard concrete, her umbrella flying, grasping her leg. She landed on her side, her coat soaking up a mixture of filthy rain water and blood. Managing to pull herself into a sitting position, Cameron was suddenly very aware of a human presence around her. Before she could react in anyway, a foot came slicing out of her view and made contact with her neck, sending her reeling back to the ground. Instinctively covering her head, Cameron felt pressure all over her body, as feet stomped, kicked, and assaulted her body. She could hardly utter a scream as the breath vacated her body with each brutal attack. Closing her eyes, now clouded with water and blood, Cameron, surprisingly, found herself praying for an end. For a moment, it seemed she would get it, but that thought was soon pushed out of her mind as she felt a pair strong hands grab her and drag her up. Her legs were forced apart by a knee, her underwear torn from her. She felt the pain of penetration, and then nothing.

HCHCHCHCHC

House rapped on Wilson's window as he walked past, knowing full well that he had gone home hours ago. His bag hung heavily from his shoulder as he stepped outside of PPTH, breathing in the damp air left behind from the storm. It had taken him almost three more hours to finish his charting, and with the hour nearing midnight, House was anxious to get home. Walking towards his bike, House heard the shrill sirens of an ambulance cutting through the night, and soon after saw the spastically flashing lights. He watched for a moment as the ambulance pulled into the bay, and the back doors were flung open, ushering out a gurney with what looked like a young woman on it. Sighing, he looked up at the heavens, and thought silently for a moment, before mounting his bike and leaving.

Twenty yards away, in the PPTH emergency room, Allison Cameron lay, barely clinging to life.


	3. Arrival

One ring, two, three: Robert Chase flopped over onto his back and groped around in the darkness for his cell. Finding it amongst his miscellaneous work items, he flipped it open. "Yeah, this is Chase," he said. The voice that met him on the other end was panicked.

"Chase, it's Foreman. Rachel from the ER just called me. Cameron is there," he said, his words assaulting Chase's still groggy brain. He reeled momentarily before Foreman started to talk again. "I'm on my way there," he said, hanging up the phone. Chase sat, horribly stunned, for another second, before launching out of bed to get dressed.

HCHCHCHCHC

One ring, two, three, four, five, answering machine: House buried his head under his pillow, attempting to block out the voice across the room. It took only a second to realize that the voice wasn't a prank call. "House, answer your phone, dammit. HOUSE!" Wilson's voice screamed at him from his answering machine. Rolling over, House picked up the wireless receiver next to his bed.

"What in God's name do you want? It's almost two in-" he said, before being cut off.

"Allison Cameron is in the ER. She's been shot. You need to come in," Wilson said, his voice cluing House in to the severity of the situation.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," House said, hanging up the phone. House groaned, before rolling out of bed to dress.

HCHCHCHCHC

One ring. Cuddy picked up her phone in a dazed stupor. "Cuddy," she said sleepily, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

"Cameron was shot. I'm going in right now." House said quickly, before hanging up the phone without another word. Cuddy sat up, and dangled her legs over the edge of her bed, before leaving the warmth of her sheets for good.

HCHCHCHCHC

Hobbling hurriedly into the ER, House saw Chase and Foreman immediately. Standing on either flank of Rachel, they were both pestering her for information. Spotting House, Chase hurried over.

"House, they won't tell us anything," he said, his voice annoyed. House hardly acknowledged Chase as he continued walking, past triage, past check-in, and past curtains 1-9.

"Doctor House, where are you going?" Rachel called, not expecting nor receiving any response. Chase and Foreman watched House's retreating form, before returning to their badgering.

House turned the corner to Trauma 1 just as they wheeled Cameron out. Stopping to allow them to pass, House grabbed Dr. Okinama's arm. Okinama turned and looked at House, his features melting quickly into pity.

"It's not good, Greg," he said, before jogging to catch up with his team. Standing in the hallway, alone, House felt a wave of nausea roll through his body. The bile rising in his throat was hardly suppressed as Li's words echoed in his ears: "It's not good, Greg." Breathing deeply, House turned to go talk to Chase and Foreman. It was going to be a hard night.


	4. Progress

The back breaker chairs adorning the walls in House's office were doing just that: breaking House's back. Attempting to lean back once again, House's spine cracked in protest. Sighing, he relented, leaning forward onto his knees. Chase set next to him, Foreman sat on the floor, and Cuddy in House's chair. For so many people in the room, the silence was deafening. Chase stared straight ahead as he began to speak.

"I called her sister," he said plainly, his voice revealing his exhaustion. House nodded non-committally. The morning sun was breaking through the blinds in House's office, reflecting off Cuddy's twisted hair and Foreman's tired face. It was nearing the sixth hour of the surgery House had seen them taking Cameron to when he'd arrived.

"Punctured lung, aortal collapse, ruptured spleen, and torn bowel," Li had told him around the third hour. House had nodded curtly, and returned to his office to inform the ducklings and Cuddy. Breaking House's thoughts, the door opened, ushering in Wilson, with coffee and food. Bar House, they smiled gratefully, taking their coffee and bagel out into the hallway to eat. Wilson squeezed Cuddy's shoulder as she passed, assuming her spot in House's chair. He waited until the door was closed to speak.

"They removed her spleen and stabilized her lung. Li thinks that the majority of her bowel will have to be removed and they're waiting for Hannock to get here to start on the heart," he said, handing House a cup of coffee, which he gladly received. "Are you okay?" House looked at him with grey eyes.

"I should have gone with her last night." Wilson sighed.

"You told me that nothing was going on," he said, careful to toe the line between the desire to help and desire to chastise. "You know beating yourself up won't change a thing." Wilson immediately regretted using the idiom. "Is that why you stayed last night?" House nodded shortly. Wilson leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "I knew there was no way that you were doing paperwork."

"Jimmy?" House asked, turning in his chair suddenly. "Never mind," he said, pulling himself up with him cane. Wilson stood too.

"Where are you going?" he asked, knowing exactly where House was going. House looked at him over his shoulder, making eye contact momentarily, before pulling the door open and exiting. He rapped Chase and Foreman on the shoulder as he passed.

"Come on. We're going to check on Lil' Sis," he said, not turning to make sure they were following. Throwing their food away, Foreman and Chase jogged to catch up with House, leaving Cuddy alone with Wilson. She exchanged glances with her colleague, before shaking her head and striding down the hallway. Wilson stood, with his hands in his pockets, for a moment, before returning to his office.

HCHCHCHCHC

Outside Theater One, the three men stood, dressed in scrubs, watching Okinama's team. For almost half an hour they watched, stepping aside only to allow Dr. Hannock entrance. Hannock had just opened Cameron's chest to repair her aorta when Chase began to feel ill. "I'm sorry," he said, looking away. With that, he turned and walked out. Foreman lasted another three minutes.

"I can't watch anymore," he stated plainly, before following Chase's path into the lobby. House himself stayed until they began stapling and suturing Cameron's chest shut. He made it out of theater just as they wheeled her out, on their way to the ICU. Standing just out of sight, House leaned back against the wall, trying, once again, to overcome the nausea that had passed through him.


	5. Family

Shifting uncomfortably, House crossed his left leg over his right and leaned back against the chair. Watching Cameron, House wondered if this was the discomfort she felt when watching him. Sighing, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Numbers flashed through his mind: 9:31 (the number of hours it had taken to finish the surgeries); 498 (collective number of sutures and staples in Cameron's body); 73 (the percent of bowel they removed); 5 (the number of months they thought tentatively it would take for her to recover enough to return home); and 4 (the number of hours House had been sitting by her bedside). Running a hand over his eyes, House sensed another presence in the room. Looking to his left, he met a gaze he knew. A woman, no more than thirty, with the exact same eyes as Cameron, stood there, clutching the hand of a woman who looked to be in her sixties, also with the same sea green irises. Both women, as a prerequisite for visiting a patient in the ICU, were wearing paper surgical masks identical to House's. The older woman's hand flew up to her mouth as she quickly crossed the room and took Cameron's bandaged hand. The younger woman turned to look at House, who had pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Emmy Wright," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Allison's older sister. You must be Doctor House." House nodded, observing how much Emmy looked like Cameron. "That's our mother, Elizabeth," she said softly. House nodded numbly. Excusing himself, House stepped outside, only to be followed by Emmy. "Doctor House," she said, as soon as the door had closed. "Doctor House, is Ally going to be okay?" House took a deep breath.

"To be quite honest, Miss Wright, I don't know. I'll have her surgeon, Doctor Li Okinama, come talk to you, but..." House was cut off by Emmy shaking her head.

"Doctor House, Ally tells me that you're one of the best diagnosticians in the nation. I know you know what her prognosis is. Please, just tell me." House could tell that she was at least prepared to pretend to handle the news.

"Miss Wright, your sister was beaten severely. Her internal organs sustained massive, massive trauma, in addition to a number of fractures and breaks. Right now, and probably for the next couple of weeks, even months, it's going to be touch-and-go," House said, his own words ringing in his mind. "But if there's one place in the country where she'll be better taken care of than anywhere else, it's here." Emmy nodded, allowing a tired smile to grace her face.

"You're not as mean as she said you were." House laughed shortly.

"I'm tired. Normally I'm more, how shall I say it, spritely." House hesitated momentarily. "I won't let anything bad happen to your sister." Emmy met eyes with House.

"I know you won't." Turning, Emmy stepped back inside the room, joining her mother at the side of Cameron's bed. From the side of Emmy's stance, House could just barely see the vent tube snaking down Cameron's throat, tangled in a mass wires protruding from her arms and chest. His mask, which he had removed to talk to Cameron's sister, floated gently to the ground. Sitting down on a row of plain, fabric chairs, House resumed his waiting. Leaning forward and resting his head on his cane, House wondered just how much of what he had said to Emmy was true, and just how much of it was what he wanted to be true.

HCHCHCHCHC

Cuddy stepped inside her office, heaving a sigh. Sitting at her desk, just where she had left him half an hour ago, was Wilson. Staring out the window, Cuddy had to speak to break Wilson's reverie.

"Jim?" she asked, crossing her office to stand in front of her brilliant wood desk. Wilson turned in his, rather her, chair and smiled tiredly. Cuddy returned the same exhausted smile, before perching on the edge of the desk. "House says she's out of surgery," Cuddy said, arching her back, reveling in the cracking sounds it made when she stretched. Wilson nodded, before turning to stare some more. "What's wrong? You seem a little distant." Wilson shuddered noticeably.

"Did House tell you that Cameron had been getting hate mail, both at home and at work?" Wilson asked without turning around. Cuddy's face registered surprise that Wilson could sense. "She's been getting unaddressed hate mail for almost a month now. It's plain and simple: "I'm going to kill you." There's nothing she can do about it, because it's addressed with a printer and looks professional. House had a whole collection of them in his desk... he's been keeping them, I guess, as proof if the guy or girl ever came around. I've been thinking, though... first some lunatic comes and shoots House, now Cameron gets attacked outside of her home. When did being a doctor become fatal?" Wilson asked, finally turning to face Cuddy. Cuddy sighed, all of her 38 years lining her face.

"It became fatal when we started thinking we were gods," she said, sitting in a chair in front of her desk. Wilson laughed dryly.

"If that was so, House would have been dead a long time ago." The two shared a smile. Wilson had just turned around when Cuddy's door opened, ushering in two police officers.

"James Wilson?" the taller officer asked. Wilson swiveled in the chair and stood, confused. "You're under arrest for the rape, battery, and attempted murder of Allison Cameron. Please stand up and place your hands behind your back." Cuddy jumped up.

"Officer, that's absurd, Dr. Wilson would never...," she cried, looking wildly between Wilson and the officers. Wilson stayed glued to his spot.

"Sir, if you'll please step out from behind the desk," the officer said.

"I want my lawyer," Wilson said, most likely to Cuddy, before stepping out from behind the desk. "Lisa, I'm innocent," he said, brushing against Cuddy as he was handcuffed and escorted from the room. Cuddy could hardly wrap her mind around what was happening. Following the three into the hallway, Cuddy, along with a sizable crowd, watched Wilson tugged down the hall and out of sight. Cuddy stood rooted in her spot for a long moment, before turning on her heel and rushing to the ICU.

HCHCHCHCHC

House had almost fallen asleep when he heard the frantic click of heels in his ear. Looking up, he saw Cuddy jogging towards him. He had just opened his mouth to make a quip when she arrived smack in front of him.

"James was just arrested!" she said, breathless. House furrowed his brow.

"James...Wilson? Did he not a pay a ticket? What the hell was he arr..." House was cut off.

"He was arrested for raping Cameron."

House heard her words and closed his eyes, crossing his left leg over his right again in an attempt to make the pain in his soul seem less.


	6. Friends

Chase paced back and forth in front of House's office, currently empty. Foreman watched him with slight annoyance, before finally snapping.

"Dammit Chase, stop it!" he said sternly, wringing his hands. Chase stopped, sighing angrily, and sat down next to Foreman.

"He hasn't been back here in almost an hour," Chase said, stating something that both he and Foreman knew couldn't mean anything good. They sat in silence for another long moment

"You think it's true, what Rachel said about Wilson?" Foreman asked, in an attempt to push the picture of a bruised and battered Cameron from his mind. He found quickly that thinking about Wilson being a rapist only put more gruesome pictures in his head. Chase shook his head furiously.

"I just don't think that Doctor Wilson could... I... no," he said, with some obvious struggle. Foreman raised his eyebrows. "Seriously, _Wilson_?" Foreman shrugged.

"I hope not," he said. "But at this point, I'm out for vengeance, as I'm sure you are too." Chase nodded once again. Opening his mouth to speak, Chase was silenced by House's arrival into the hall. Standing in unison, Foreman and Chase were ushered back to their seats with the annoyed wave of a hand.

"Updates on today's soap opera: Cameron is still out, and probably will be for a week, so feel free to go sit with her once her family leaves. Wilson is being booked, which is where I'm going now. And as much as I appreciate the time-honored art of loitering, you can't do it outside my office all night," he said, without breathing. Chase and Foreman watched him, unblinking. "So, go do something. Don't just sit there." Foreman stood, nodding at Chase, and walked down the hallway. House stepped past Chase into his office, only to be followed.

"House, is Cameron going to die?" Chase asked, surprised to hear the words uttered so easily. Chase observed the tension House's whole body immediately, realizing that House also couldn't believe it. Turning slowly, Chase noticed that House looked more tired and exhausted than normal.

"Chase, for the love of all things holy, go away," he said, his voice gruff. Chase stared, before breaking his gaze and exiting the office. Sitting down heavily, House attempted to control his breathing. Surely she wasn't going to die.

HCHCHCHCHC

**I can see the light behind my eyes and hear their voices. I think I hear Mom and Emmy, but I'm not sure. The pain in my head and body is indescribable: at least an eight or nine on the pain scale.** **There's a muted whoosh in my ears, which I'm sure is the sound of the ventilator providing air to the tube down my throat. Everything hurts. I knew it would. I can't move a thing, but that's probably because I'm sedated. Maybe I'm paralyzed. At least I'm alive. Well, I think I'm alive.**

Heaving a sigh, Emmy stood and stretched. "Mom, we need to go get something to eat. Let Doctor Chase and Doctor Foreman have some time with Ally." Elizabeth relinquished her grip on Cameron's hand before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Passing both Chase and Foreman on the way out, Elizabeth and Emmy held each other's hands for warmth and emotional support. Sitting in the recently vacated chairs, Chase and Foreman allowed their eyes to survey the body of the woman they had both come to know and respect. Foreman felt guilt swell in his chest, for both almost killing her several months ago and for not inviting her to drinks with him and Chase that evening. If he had, she might not be here. Shifting his eyes left, he noticed that Chase had taken Cameron's hand and was stroking her palm with his thumb.

"S'all right Allison. We're here now."

**I know. I'm glad for it.**


	7. Accusal

Allowing the water to ebb at her conscience, Cuddy stood under the drenching showerhead for a full minute without moving. Leaning sideways and resting her head against the cool marble, Cuddy ran her fingers over her forehead in an attempt to perhaps push out her headache. The events of the past weeks (had it really been almost two weeks since Cameron had been attacked?) still set Cuddy's stomach rolling. Sighing and straightening up, Cuddy grabbed the shampoo bottle perched on the shower wall and set about the task of readying for another arduous day.

HCHCHCHCHC

Bouncing his cane between his knees, House was hardly paying attention to what Wilson was rambling about. House had almost completely lost focus and interest when Wilson placed a hard tap against the glass separating them. Sighing, House rolled his head to the side, making eye contact with Wilson. "What?" House asked, turning in his chair.

"Jesus Christ, House, I'm trying to talk to you. I don't really have lots of liberties in here, so if you could pay attention for five minutes, that would be great," Wilson spat.

Wilson had been booked and charged with Cameron's rape and assault, and was currently awaiting arraignment. House and Wilson both knew that Wilson was innocent, but without Cameron's testimony, there would be no way to prove otherwise. As it was, Cameron was still in a drug induced coma.

"Jimmy, just shut up and enjoy your time off. I'll get you out of here, no big deal."

"Easy for you to say; you're not the one in jail! House, I won't last another week in here. They treat me like shit, as I'm sure you can imagine. I'm their scapegoat!"

"Oh, that's right, I forgot. Well, stay strong, Dolly."

"Dolly was a lamb."

"Whatever. Prison Break 2006 is in the works," House quipped. Looking to his left, he noticed a tall, muscle-bound guard, whose face now bore the resemblance to an overworked, undersexed primate. "Relax, I was only kidding," House said, before heaving out of his chair and hastily exiting the visiting room. He had almost made it out of the room when Wilson called his name. Turning slowly, he grudgingly made eye contact.

"Cameron...she's okay, right?" he asked, standing in preparation to leave. House nodded shortly, knowing his lie would show. Watching House exit, Wilson sighed.

"Everybody lies."

HCHCHCHCHC

Shuffling around, LPN Kelly Harris was in the process of changing Cameron's many dressings. Clucking her tongue slightly, Kelly gently rolled gauze over the wound on her wrist. Shaking her head almost the whole time she worked, Kelly could still hardly begin to imagine the pain the poor girl in front of her would have had to have endured. She'd met and worked with Doctor Cameron on several occasions, most notably Doctor House's shooting, and she had nothing but good things to say about her. The same could not be said about Doctors Chase and Foreman, who were currently standing behind her, watching her work. "Doctors," she thought irritably. "All critique and no help." They were in there, sometimes together, most of the time apart, at all hours of the day. Without fail however, they always scurried with Doctor House's arrival.

Doctor House was one of the doctors in the hospital that Kelly had never been able to figure out, and Doctor Cameron's attack had done nothing to put his actions and feelings into clearer focus. Sighing, Kelly pulled a piece of tape from the roll to her left and secured Cameron's bandages, before throwing a nasty glance at Chase and Foreman and leaving. Watching her go, Chase and Foreman exchanged looks. Sitting down in their normal spots, Chase began to fill Cameron in on current events, both at the hospital and in the world. After about ten minutes with Cameron, Chase's pager went off. Excusing himself, Chase vacated the room, leaving Foreman alone with Cameron's sleeping form. Hesitantly scooting his chair over, Foreman began to speak.

"Hey, Cameron, it's me, Foreman. I, uh, know I'm probably the last person you want hear from but... Allison, we miss you and we want you to get better, dammit. I want you to get better," he began to ramble. For fifteen minutes Foreman talked, apologizing for stabbing her with the needle, for treating her life crap, and for not inviting her out with them the night she was attacked. It was for that that Foreman felt most guilty. Sighing, he reached out and gently squeezed her hand. "I'm just sorry," he added. He pushed his chair back in place, and left silently.

With a click, the door shut, leaving Cameron alone again. The silence was punctuated by beeps and whooshes. Minutes passed as they always did: slow and painful. As hospital life continued on outside her room, Cameron lay still and prostrate. Well, almost still. What Foreman, Chase, and Kelly hadn't noticed was that the pinky finger on her left hand moved. And what no one but Cameron knew was that it twitched intentionally.

Forcing herself to try and move, Cameron was met with a terrifying reaction. Every muscle in her body burned in protest, every inch of her skin flaming with agony. Her esophagus tightened around the tube in her throat and she began to choke. Arching her back, Cameron felt the seizure scream through her body, overtaking all control she may or may not have had. In the very back of her mind she heard monitors and alarms begin to sound shrilly. For a full minute her agony continued, until a prick in her arm, barely discernable through the other pain, alerted her to the efforts being done to save her life. Then, as if someone had poured hot oil on the crown of her head and allowed it to flow down her body, a feeling of calm flooded her. Her throat loosened and her flesh gave rise to a thick sheen of cold sweat, her body's method of cooling her down. Her eyes stopped rolling around behind her eyelids and her back finally fell flush against the bed again. The buzzing in her ears returned, and she could hear shallow sobs.

"**Emmy, don't cry, I'm okay."**

"What the hell happened?" House demanded, hobbling back in the room. He looked around, taking in the situation. Cameron lay disheveled and sweating on the bed. Elizabeth and Emmy sat in the corner, sniffling and wiping her eyes. Chase stood stunned in the corner, an empty syringe in his left hand. "Chase, what happened?"

"She... she began seizing. I administered 60 mg's of Phenobarbital and the seizing, um, ceased," Chase stuttered, unable to make eye contact. "House," Chase said, his voice cracking. "House, I think she might be conscious." House pursed his lips, before limping over to stand next to the bed.

"Chase, why didn't the Lithium prevent her seizures?" Chase thought for a long moment.

"Um...the law of diminishing returns." House shrugged.

"Why not? I sure as hell don't know." House looked around the room, making eye contact with Chase, Elizabeth, and Emmy. "You think she's awake? Only one way to find out," he said, his hands floating fluidly over Cameron's face. In one slick motion, he depressed a button and removed the vent from the tube in her throat. "Cameron, breathe," House demanded. For ten seconds, they stood, with no sign of response.

"You're killing her!" Emmy cried as an alarm went off.

"No, I'm not. Cameron, god dammit, breathe." House kept his eyes on her, waiting for the knee-jerk reaction. He saw it coming before anyone else did: her throat contracted and her stomach heaved in. Leaning forward, he placed his ear directly above the tube and nodded. "Come here, Emmy. Listen." Emmy hurriedly crossed the room, placing her ear just where House's had been. "Okay, step back. I'm going to extubate her." Placing two fingers on Cameron's throat, he rubbed over the larynx as he untaped the tube from the corners of her lips.

"Deep breath in, Cameron. The tube is coming out," he said, before counting down from three and pulling it out. Cameron coughed involuntarily. Removing the tape that held her eyelids shut, House waited for her to respond. For a full minute, her body shook with coughs, until her eyes slid open. Still gasping heavily, Cameron looked around, squinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Emmy's hand flew up to her mouth, accompanying the tiny gasp she uttered. House stepped back as Emmy and Elizabeth hurried over to Cameron's bed, a cup of water in hand. Chase stood at the foot of Cameron's bed, his face registering exhaustion, relief, and surprise. Breathing deeply and shakily, Cameron made eye contact with House and smiled weakly.

"Thank you," Cameron croaked to House.

House smiled the tiniest smile, before taking Chase out with him.


	8. Release

Twirling his cane in between his palms, House stared out into space, his mind void of all thought. His right leg was stretched painfully out in front of his, his left leg hung limp at his side. House didn't budge when Cuddy came in, nor did he acknowledge her presence.

"Cameron's asking for you," Cuddy said, leaning against the door. House nodded, without moving. "House, Cameron's asking for you." House turned to face Cuddy, his leg falling to the ground with a thump.

"Okay, I heard you the first time and I didn't say anything to imply that I cared. Why would you assume that I would care two seconds later?" Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to visit Wilson. His arraignment is an hour." House nodded non-committally, turning back in his chair to stare.

HCHCHCHCHC

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Chase asked as he sat down next to Cameron's bed. She smiled.

"Better. My abdomen still hurts. My vision is hazy and there's topical pain in my left knee. It's getting better though." Chase nodded. "Nobody will tell me anything about my attack." Chase felt his face flush immediately. A minute ticked past.

"I, uh, I know some stuff."

"Like what?" Cameron forced Chase to look her in the eye, placing her hand on his forearm.

"I know where you were attacked and the details, but nothing else."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Cameron, they arrested a man for the attack." Cameron's mouth dropped slightly, as panic flooded her eyes.

"Who?" Her question was met with silence. "Chase?"

"Wilson," he spat, before he could stop himself. Cameron's hand flew up to her mouth, her face contorted in pain from the sudden movement.

"James? Wilson? I... no, that's not possible," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, Chase, no. It's not possible. I know Wilson's body, it wasn't him." Chase's eyebrows rose so far up his forehead that they practically disappeared. "That's not what I meant. The man was much, much bigger than Wilson. He was too tall, too heavy. Oh God, Chase, I have to tell the police it wasn't him." Tears rolled down Cameron's face in droves, her hands shaking horribly. Chase took her left hand in his, stroking it soothingly.

"I think Cuddy was going to sit in on his arraignment. I'll go too. Allison, calm down, you're going to bust your stitches," Chase said, noticing that Cameron's tears had turned into sobs. Gasping, Cameron attempted to still her sobs, to no avail.

Standing outside Cameron's room, watching the scene play out behind the glass window, House sighed and returned to his office.

HCHCHCHCHC

Walking quickly down the hallway of the Mercer County Courthouse, Cuddy's mind was swimming with questions, worries, and convoluted visions. Stopping in front of Courtroom Three, Cuddy took a minute to gather herself before pushing the heavy oak door open and taking a seat in the third row from the front. Sighing, Cuddy slid her purse onto the bench and closed her eyes. For twenty minutes she sat in silence, until in the back of her mind she heard someone calling her name, not realizing it was Chase until he was right next to her.

"Dr. Cuddy," he said, sitting down next to her. She looked up, surprised, and smiled apologetically. "Cameron says the man who attacked couldn't have been Wilson. She said he was too big." Cuddy took a moment to process Chase's information, before nodding. "What do we do?"

"We wait," Cuddy said as the honorable Judge Laird McMiccon took his seat at the bench. Wilson was brought in, handcuffed, by a bailiff, and stood in front of a lectern before the judge.

"In regards to case #24601, the People vs. James E. Wilson, how does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty, your honor," Wilson said, his voice shaking.

"The defendant's bail is posted at an amount of $15,000, and he is reprimanded until bail is paid. That is all." Unlocking Wilson's handcuffs, the bailiff gave him instructions as to how to go about posting bail, and escorted him past the small crowd gathered to observe to the bondsman. Following them out, Chase and Cuddy waited outside the office for thirty minutes until Wilson reemerged, shaken and pale. Practically falling into Cuddy's arms, Wilson sighed heavily into her shoulder.

Rubbing small circles on his back, Cuddy told Wilson of Cameron's awakening. As quickly as he had dissolved, he was calm.

"I want to see her."


	9. Danger

Wilson had never encountered a woman who could make his blood run cold with a stare before... that is, until he met Emmy Wright. Standing in his office, still recovering from the arraignment, Wilson was hardly prepared for Allison Cameron's older sister. Gathering the case files that had piled up on his desk over the last three weeks and shoving them in his briefcase, Wilson was about to leave to visit Cameron when he heard his office door open and slam shut. Spinning on the spot to chastise whoever had disrupted his silence, Wilson was instead met with the sting of a slap and thready timbre of a woman's stricken voice.

"You bastard! I don't care what Allison says, the mere fact that you were even _insinuated_ in her attack makes you the lowest of low," the slight woman in front of Wilson screeched. Pulling her arm back for another hit, Emmy's wrist was snatched by a gnarled hand, revealing House's presence in the room. Twisting in his grasp, Emmy made eye contact with House and immediately dissolved into tears. Biting his lip, obviously annoyed and uncomfortable, House practically dragged Emmy from Wilson's office, leading her down the hallway and out of striking range. Sitting her down on the bench in front of the nurses station, House barked orders to Rachel to "make sure that the 'could-be criminal' doesn't move". Indignant, Emmy spat something about Wilson being the real criminal, a remark that was almost enough to make House snap.

"Look, lady, I've been dealing with your hysterics for close to a month. Cut the guy some slack, for Christ's sake: he's never had as much as a parking ticket and he just spent two weeks in jail for a crime he couldn't possibly have committed without vomiting out of sheer disgust at the impropriety. So just sit here and be glad that someone doesn't press charges on two counts of assault and being a whack job!" Breathing heavily, House surveyed the room and rolled his eyes in the general direction of the twenty people who had stopped their lives to watch. He turned back to Rachel.

"She doesn't move." Rachel nodded, keeping one eye on House and one eye on Emmy. Retracing his steps to Wilson's office, he wasn't surprised to find his friend sitting in his chair with the back to the hall. Shutting the door quietly, House leaned against the wall and allowed his head to fall back against the plaster.

"Wilson," he whined, stepping forward to prod Wilson's chair with his cane. Wilson turned to face House, his face stained with tears. House's mouth dropped open to say something, only to snap shut. "Wilson, come on, let's go see Cameron." Wilson shook his head 'no', before wiping his cheeks gathering his things. Coming around the side of his desk, Wilson's path was blocked by House's cane. "Stop being a queen and go see her." For a long moment the two men stood, the silence palpable, before Wilson responded with a curt nod. Dropping his cane, House allowed Wilson to pass before following him out.

"Do you wanna splash some water on your face, honey?" House said, his voice mocking. Wilson rolled his eyes, allowing the corners of his lips to flick upward slightly.

HCHCHCHCHC

Laughing with his friends, Davidé Bourgenet was beside himself. That girl was surrounded by her friends, she thought she was safe. He had witnessed, not ten minutes ago, her sister striking the doctor they had arrested for her attack, only to be removed from his office by that other doctor, "Il Bastardo" as his friend Robert called him affectionately. Sighing contentedly, Davidé continued with his day's work, the malice of his intentions hardly showing through his blue scrubs and genial appearance.


	10. Meeting

Flipping through the papers that had accumulated in Cameron's mailbox over the last month, Chase was separating the letters from the miscellaneous bulletins. Three envelopes marked "Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital ATTN: Allison Cameron" were set off to the left, on top of a stack of the weekly flyers the cafeteria sent out posting what would be served for lunch those days. Sighing, Chase chucked the non entities and gathered up the physical mail to take it to Cameron.

Walking down the dimly lit corridor, Chase was slightly pleased to see that the only person still in Cameron's room was Wilson, who was sitting next to her bed, chatting lightly. Chase had been amazing, even befuddled as to how Wilson was allowed to see Cameron, but he realized that if Cameron had wished it so then it was presumably okay. Stepping in, Chase flashed a smile and wordlessly set Cameron's mail down, before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, nodding towards Wilson and leaving.

"They've all been so good to me," Cameron said, picking up the letter on the top of the stack. Before she could slip her finger underneath the seal, Wilson lunged out and grabbed it from her, along with the two still sitting on her bedside table. "James!"

"I can't believe Chase was so dense," Wilson muttered as he tore the first letter open, read it quickly, and crumpled it up. Cameron watched him with confused and frightened eyes, before realization dawned on her.

"He sent them... he sent them here? Again?" she sputtered, watching as Wilson preformed the same actions with the other two. Wilson sighed, unable to make eye contact with Cameron, unable to share her panic. "James, that means you're cleared. You couldn't have sent those letters, you've been a little busy the last few days," Cameron stated, attempting to slow her breathing. Wilson smiled slightly, his cheeks blushing involuntarily. Cameron reached out and placed her hand on top of Wilson's, unconsciously stroking his thumb with hers. Cameron could tell that the last few weeks had taken a great, painful toll on Wilson. Placing her hand on his chin, she turned his face up to look at her.

"James, I know you could never hurt another human being," she said, placing her full hand on Wilson's cheek. He smiled, kissing her palm softly.

"That's not entirely true, Allison," he said, standing. "When they find this man, I'm going to kill him." Cameron watched him with grey eyes as he leaned down and placed a feather soft kiss to her lips before gathering his coat and leaving.

HCHCHCHCHC

Walking past his office before leaving, Wilson almost jumped through the roof when a voice called to him from the hallway. Turning, holding his chest, Wilson met the ice crystal gaze of House, leaning against the wall.

"So, are you and Cameron going steady?" House asked, pushing off the wall, his voice dripping in bitterness. Wilson sighed, breathing heavily.

"No, House. It's nothing."

"Really, because it sure looked like something, at least according to Rachel. The girls and I were just hanging out in the nurse's station, swooning over Johnny when she ran up and, oh-my-god, Jimmy was kissing Allie!" House wooed, placing his hands over his heart before rolling his eyes and sneering.

"You're an idiot, House."

"I'm an idiot? I think you're the one who was just accused of putting her in here and now you're necking with her."

"You're just pissed because she didn't push me away."

Silence.

"Yeah, that's right House. She didn't."

"Well, that's cause' she's drugged."

"House! Listen to yourself! You've been on drugs for years and you're the same, grouchy, uppity old man that you were before! You're pissed that you didn't get the girl, and quite frankly, I'm glad you didn't."

"Aw, Jimmy, now come on. We both know you've never had trouble getting the girl. Several at once, even!" Wilson blushed, his face tinged with anger.

"I'm going home."

"Alright, sleep well. Try to not commit the Sin of Onan thinking about your dear Allison." Wilson walked ten feet before turning around.

"You've had every chance in the world to tell her how you feel. She was practically throwing herself at you. You only want her now because someone else has her!"

"Yes." With that, House left the corridor, his cane thumping mutedly as he rounded the corner and out of sight, leaving a confused, embaressed and hurt Wilson rooted in his spot.


	11. Romance

"Alright Allison, I want you to push against my hand with the heel of your foot, okay?" Cameron nodded at the kind nurse, resisting the urge to push against her face with the heel of her godforsaken foot. Concealing a grin, Wilson turned to face the wall as Cameron groaned in pain.

The physical therapy she'd been enduring the last several weeks was helping, but not without cost: the pain alone was almost unbearable and that pain was hardly counter-acted by the lugubrious progress she was making. Having regained almost complete function of only her left arm and leg, Cameron was slowly adapting to the idea of being permanently handicapped. A cruel idea entertained by a deep, masochistic part of her brain, but something to hang onto nonetheless.

"Maybe when you get out, we can be cane buddies!" House had chirped, his voice sickly sweet. Frowning, Wilson had uncharacteristically slapped the back of House's head, the gesture accompanying a horribly obvious eye roll. "Sheesh, I was just trying to help," House whined with mock hurt.

"Yeah, well, do us a favor, and stop," Wilson had responded, crossing his arms across his chest. Furrowing his brow, House had hobbled out of the room, mumbling incoherently.

"You're in a good mood," Cameron said, cocking an eyebrow. Shaking his head, Wilson had avoided eye contact and stared out the window.

"Well, we're done for today. I'll see you tomorrow at the same time?" the nurse asked, as if her patient was going anywhere. Smiling shortly, Cameron tugged the covers back up over her legs and waited for the nurse to leave the room before flopping back and issuing an exasperated sigh.

"She's just trying to help."

"Fuck her." Wilson's mouth dropped open.

"Begpardon?" he slurred, sitting down, still unbelieving that Cameron, his sweet, little Cameron had uttered such a word.

"You heard me, James."

"I know, I just thought that maybe I needed to reconsider otosclerosis in my family's history." Cameron's lip twitched into a smile as she turned her head to face Wilson.

"You should go home, you look terrible."

"Gee, than... you're right. I'll be back in an hour, okay?" he asked as he stood and pulled his coat on. Cameron continued to grin as Wilson placed a soft kiss on her lips and left the room. Switching the TV on, Cameron was soon interrupted by an innocuous rapping on her window. Looking up, she rolled her eyes at House as he clasped his hands together in a begging fashion. Nodding annoyedly, Cameron raised her left hand and ushered him in.

"Oh, thank God," he said, slipping in and snatching the remote from Cameron immediately.

"You're welcome," she reacted sarcastically, leaning back against her pillows.

"I said 'God', not 'Kali'. How was Physical Therapy?" House asked as he tuned the TV to ABC, still five minutes away from _General Hospital._

"It was lovely. I'll be running the Boston Marathon next week."

"Doubt it. The Boston Marathon is in April."

"Well, now I have nothing to work towards." House smirked, rolling his head to the side.

"You don't wanna get better for dear ole' Jimmy?" Cameron blushed furiously, averting her gaze.

"Of course I do, it's just..."

"I've been where you are before. View sucks, but at least pithos is on tap."

"I hate sports metaphors," Cameron groaned, staring at the ceiling.

"How are things with the Good Doctor, anyway?" Cameron did her best to control her breathing as House twiddled his thumbs.

"Fine."

"Interesting parallel really. The man accused of attacking you in the first place ends up as your lover. I just..." House trailed off when another nurse pushed open the door. Cameron smiled at the man, Davidé, as he picked up the dead flowers from her bedside and set a new vase down.

"Thanks," she murmured, staring at her hands. Davidé nodded graciously, before regarding House and leaving again.

"Well, he freaks me out," House stated after a long minute. Cameron pursed her lips as she fiddled with a loose string on the quilt draped over the arm of her bed.

"He's a nice enough guy: doesn't say much, which is a nice departure from you, if I do say so."

"So, are you and Wilson gonna get hitched?" Cameron choked back a tiny gasp as she made great strides in the field of quilt unraveling.

"No... what makes you say that?"

"Well, I mean, all of the signs are there. You're heading down the aisle, I just know it! Oh, my little girl is growing u..."

"Shut up, House. Wilson and I aren't getting married."

"Why not?"

"Because, neither one of us is at that point in our lives."

"Oh sure, the old 'we're not ready' excuse."

"House..."

"Is he bad in bed? I mean, not that you know, but I'm sure there's any number of women who could..."

"I'm not in love with Wilson! James," Cameron shouted, correcting herself at the last minute.

"Okay," House stated plainly. Cameron mouthed wordlessly for a long moment.

"That's it?"

"Sh, _General Hospital _is on."

It was a good thing too, because the next words out of Cameron's mouth would've been "I'm actually in love with you".


End file.
